


Two Wrongs

by itachiscatears



Series: Naruto AU Week 2021 [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Gun Violence, M/M, Open Ending, Undercover Cop Izuna, Violence, Yakuza Senju
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:13:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29336595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itachiscatears/pseuds/itachiscatears
Summary: Senju Itama is a 33-year-old layabout with a penchant for bad films and even worse poetry. He is also the youngest brother of the most confusing crime boss in Japan.Shiranui Ichirō is a 37-year-old personal trainer recovering from his stint in the military. He is also a liar.They meet at an exclusive dōjō deep within the Shodai's domain. Things go too smoothly from there.*"I know who you are, Uchiha Izuna. You served in the military for twelve years and joined the police force two years ago. You're a special officer with the Drugs and Firearms Division. You're third of five children but your only surviving sibling is Uchiha Madara, newest Commissioner General of the National Police Agency. You were assigned to us last spring.""I don't know what you're talking about."It is a pitiful attempt. Itama gives him a painful smile.
Relationships: Senju Itama/Uchiha Izuna
Series: Naruto AU Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151513
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8
Collections: Naruto AU Week 2021





	Two Wrongs

**Author's Note:**

> _Content warnings: Violence. Murder of a minor character. Mentions of past dubious consent due to false pretences._
> 
> I wish I had the time, patience or expertise to write out this full story. I have a lot of thoughts about the future of this fic. 
> 
> Written for: 
> 
> Naruto AU Week 2021 - Day 3: Mafia/Yakuza | ~~Time Travel~~
> 
> Izuna Week 2021 - Day 3: (prompts ignored for my own agenda whoops but they were optional so it's all cool)

Izuna shuts the front door after himself and pauses.

"I'm home. I brought food if you're hungry."

There is no answer. He heels off his shoes, grabs the knife from the holster inside his waistband and enters the dim apartment.

Itama is in the kitchen. A cup of tea and a half-eaten apple sit on the counter next to the kettle. A rifle tripod is balanced in front of the open kitchen window, hidden only by the shitty blinds.

"I'm sorry," Itama says, not looking away from the scope as he unholsters a handgun and points it at Izuna's chest. "If you try to run, attack or contact help, I will shoot you."

Izuna stays where he is. The convenience store bag slips slowly out of his fingers and lands with a thud on the floor, beer cans clinking.

"W-what's going on?"

He does not have to fake his fear. Itama's file is scarce: the only things of note being his moderately impressive academic record and various belts in martial arts. There was nothing to indicate he was directly involved in his brothers' organisation. Izuna had known that was naive to think, but he had not for one moment considered _this_ to be a possibility.

Itama does not reply, twitching the blinds as he adjusts his set-up.

He finally looks at him, face closed. "I don't want to waste time talking, but I guess that's unavoidable now. I thought you would be home earlier – I planned to put you to sleep, but you never came and I assumed you had been called in.”

Izuna stares at him, eyes darting back and forth over the unfamiliar stance of his body and the hard edge to his eyes. He looks more like his older brothers than ever.

"I don't—I don't understand. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill a very annoying person," he says simply. "But like you, they've deviated from their normal routine. I've been waiting for several hours now for them to take their smoke break."

Izuna's phone beeps in his pocket. He does not look away from Itama's face, but the sound carries through the apartment.

"Who is it? Your brother?"

"My brother never texts me," he says around a dry tongue. "We don't talk."

He doesn't know when he had been made but that had been a particularly _stupid_ mistake. He had confirmed repeatedly with his supervisor that Shiranui Ichirō was an only child and had turned around and said he had a brother when Itama casually enquired about his family. They had been drinking, but not nearly enough to loosen his tongue.

"No? Your estranged brother the Commissioner General? Maybe I'm thinking of someone else." Itama looks back at him, disappointment lurking behind dark eyes. "I know who you are, Uchiha Izuna. You served in the military for twelve years and joined the police force two years ago. You're a special officer with the Drugs and Firearms Division. You're third of five children but your only surviving sibling is Uchiha Madara, newest Commissioner General of the National Police Agency. You were assigned to us last spring."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

It is a pitiful attempt. Itama gives him a painful smile.

"I wish I could believe you. I do. I've really enjoyed our time together... I've felt really guilty, but it was Big Brother's orders to keep an eye on you. And I know this shouldn't really make me feel better, but you entered this relationship under false pretences too. You were just trying to get in with Tobirama."

Izuna does not appreciate the implication, nor the shiver of true fear that skitters down his spine. There really is no getting out of this now.

"I wasn't going to sleep with your brother, thanks. I wasn't meant to sleep with _you_."

He shouldn't have admitted to that, he thinks belatedly. Ah, well. He's probably going to get shot anyway—by Madara, if not by Itama.

"I wasn't meant to sleep with you either. Big Brother had to destroy the tapes."

"The tapes?" he repeats blankly.

"Cameras were set up in every room of my apartment in case you went snooping or tried to hurt me," Itama murmurs, eyes locked on the scope. "Unfortunately, whenever we... you know... it was recorded."

"Ah." That was why he always insisted on doing it under the covers. Izuna had assumed, but he could never be sure. Izuna probably shouldn't feel grateful to him, but Big Brother witnessing them have sex under a heavy blanket was slightly more palatable than the other possibilities.

"I disabled the cameras in here, by the way," Itama adds. "I also took all the CDs and floppy discs I could find. Floppy discs, Izuna?"

"For the sex tapes."

Itama doesn't lift his head from the scope. "Let's keep it civil, please? I'm not happy about this, you know. You're the best friend I've ever had."

Pity swells beneath his ribs. They had gone out to eat, to karaoke on one memorably horrifying occasion, had sat up drinking and smoking. They'd fucked too many times for it to be considered his patriotic duty, but half of those encounters _had_ been dutiful – evidenced by his terrible performances as he tried to mimic the things he saw on hastily-consulted gay porn. He had done nothing of consequence, nothing of importance: he doesn't know how to be a _friend_. He had been chosen for this assignment to spy on the enigmatic Tobirama, not soft-hearted little Itama.

Soft-hearted little Itama who is apparently an experienced marksmen, but that seems somehow beside the point.

"It doesn't have to be like this."

(Had he gotten that from a film? Probably. He feels numb.)

"How else could it be?" Itama sounds curious. "I'll be arrested. Will you keep me as an informant? I'll kill myself before betraying my family, just so you know. I should kill myself now for revealing any of this to you, but Big Brother is already aware of my failings. He has been merciful."

"Big Brother sounds like a cunt."

Itama turns slowly to look at him, eyes wide.

Well, if he's going to get shot either way. Izuna cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, "THE SHODAI IS A MASSIVE—"

_"Izuna!"_

"Are you scared of him? My estranged brother the Commissioner General could probably be convinced to hear your side of things."

"I'm not scared of Big Brother," Itama says flatly, turning back to the window. Is his target home? In view? "He coddles us too much, to tell the truth. You wouldn't understand, your brother being _estranged_. Give me your phone."

The handgun is still trained on him. Itama knows about the CDs and floppy discs. He might have been guessing about the cameras, but there is no way for Izuna to check they truly have been disabled without getting shot.

All he has is a knife. If he were one foot rather than several metres away, he would have risked it.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and slides it across the scarred floorboards. It hits the bottom of the kitchen cupboards with an audible thump, but it's a hardy piece of shit. Itama bends down neatly without lowering the gun and picks it up.

"What's your password?"

"I don't know. Muscle memory."

Itama stares at him contemplatingly. "Do I believe you? You're such a good liar. You're not even interested in men, are you?"

He doesn't twitch. Itama seems faintly embarrassed for bringing it up, so he admits, "No."

Not usually.

"I suppose I knew, but part of me hoped you were just too embarrassed to admit you were a virgin after bragging about all the men you'd fucked."

"Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I still went through with it knowing you were just a spy and probably didn't have any interest in me. I could have kept it platonic but I was selfish." He slides the phone back. "Put in your password. If you do _anything_ else, I'll shoot you in the foot."

Izuna can make outbound calls without unlocking his phone. He could send two missed calls to his supervisor by the time Itama realises he isn't inputting his password. He'll survive a bullet to the foot.

He types in his password and slides it back.

"Who are you targeting?"

"Trust for trust?" Itama asks without interest, scrolling through his text messages. "You could just ask. It's not a secret."

He hesitates. "Who are you targeting? Why?"

"Hagoromo Ichigo. I'm sure you're aware of his various crimes, so I won't go into them, but Big Brother's had enough of him now."

He breathes in evenly. "Why is Hagoromo Ichigo across from my kitchen window?"

"You didn't know? He's been living in the building next to yours for years."

No, as it happens both Madara and his supervisor had failed to mention that. If they were even aware.

"I heard that the Uchiha and Hagoromo used to be allies. Back when the Uchiha weren't bootlicking scum."

Izuna says nothing. His throat is dry. His brother might not be aware of Hagoromo, but is Hagoromo aware of _him?_ He's lucky he hasn't come home to a gun in his face before.

Itama must find what he's looking for: his phone pings softly in his back pocket. He says, "I hope there aren't any important messages or pictures on here," and forces a factory reset.

Izuna might have pointed out that a factory reset is a pitiful way to erase data, but Tobirama is by all accounts a tech freak and Itama must be aware of this. The SIM card is pocketed, the phone taken apart and the hardware thrown out of the fifth-storey window.

"I should probably tie you up so you're not tempted to interfere further. I should have done that as soon as you arrived," he adds to himself with a small sigh. "Tobirama is going to leave me in a gutter. Get on the floor."

Izuna is still clutching his knife. He could strike with his fists, but he doubts that he will be able to unsheathe the knife before Itama shoots him. Even if Itama is bluffing, he might startle and pull the trigger anyway. He can't tell if the safety is on.

Izuna gets to his knees and lies flat on his stomach, arms spread on either side of him. His heart beats in slow, heavy thuds.

He listens to Itama get a spool of rope from the nondescript gym bag he stores his things in whenever he sleeps over. _Had he planned it like that?_ The neighbours must have seen him carrying it. When he leaves, no-one will think twice about what is in the bag.

The handgun is holstered with a faint clink. Itama steps on his hand, forcing him to let go of the knife, and kicks it aside with enough force to send it flying across the floorboards. Izuna doesn't see where it goes.

His heart is hammering against his ribcage. Itama begins to lower himself knee-first into his back and Izuna twists under him, striking him across the face and chest.

They grapple for leverage, Izuna nearly managing to swing over him and pin him by the throat when he feels a sharp pain in his side. He stills, looking down into Itama's face.

"Lie down," Itama spits, red with exertion. The blade sinks in deeper. _"Now."_

He nods sharply and the blade is withdrawn, blood seeping through his shirt. He crawls onto his front, arms behind his back, and shuts his eyes in disgrace as his arms are bound.

A few more inches and that would have punctured his kidney. Not bluffing.

No further words are exchanged. Izuna is left hogtied on the floor, wound pooling sluggishly beneath him. He turns his head to the kitchen, watching Itama wash the blade and his hands at the bare sink. The blade is sheathed somewhere beneath his coat.

He doesn't know how much time passes simply watching Itama at the window. He waits for his phone to ping with a message from Madara and remembers belatedly that it is in several pieces. How long before someone realises something is wrong? He has little hope of it being before Itama completes his objective. The cameras aren't monitored daily and he had reported in as normal that morning.

Itama straightens suddenly and gets something from his bag: industrial ear muffs. He fits them on and leans over the rifle, adjusting the tripod by millimetres. He stills, watching. Puts his hands into position. Gently fingers the trigger.

Izuna does not flinch. He counts two shots beyond ringing ears.

Itama removes the ear muffs and disassembles his set-up in what feels like sixty seconds, somehow fitting it all into the gym bag without it bulging obviously. He rinses out his teacup, stows the half-eaten apple in his coat pocket and hefts the bag over his shoulder.

Only now does he pull on a pair of gloves. He picks up the scuffed landline and dials three buttons. _110?_

Izuna listens from far away as he reports gunshots in the area. He gives Izuna's apartment address and alias to the operator.

Unfamiliar boots stop next to him. For a long moment all that can be heard is their too-quick breaths. A shout breaks the silence; a car skids to a halt outside. Voices rise and dip. Had the body fallen into the street?

Itama swallows back whatever it is he means to say and leaves, closing the front door quietly behind himself.


End file.
